I find it kind of ironic that today’s Blogging101 do-this is titled “Love Your Theme” – aaaand because you love it so much, change it. But I’m nothing if not a great sport, so I went along for the ride and did exactly what I did a week ago when I created my account: play around with pretty pictures. So for today, and for today only, because I really liked the one I already had, I finally choose… Eighties!
Yeah, it’s nice, just too big and not overview-y enough. That’s what I liked about the old design, it had like everything at first glance. I don’t like having to look and search and curse for stuff, I like to just look at something and find all the information I need. Isn’t like that with Eighties, here you have to click things, who wants to do that? I’ll change it back tomorrow. Hey, did you know I can predict the future? Tomorrow I’ll wake up, lurch around with my morning cup of tea firmly in hand, log on to this site… and spill tea all over my keyboard in my half heart attack and what-the-everloving-fuck-happened because I won’t remember I changed anything. Then I’ll read this and be like, “Called it!”
Like, oh my god!
Anyway… I really like this design because it’s really bold and big and colourful and totally not because you can bait me with anything eighties related ever, even if it’s just the number. (The 80s didn’t have yahoo!, picture is still nice, though.) I mean, I grew up with the 80s. Not really within the realm of that particular decade, but definitely with it. For one, Austria is always a good ten years behind everything. Like, people still expect you to fax them things, never mind that you don’t know a single copy place with a fax machine, and the only places that still have one have probably never heard of this new internet thing, so they don’t have a homepage, an ad listing, anything, and therefore you can’t find them, and therefore your whatever-it-is is never getting faxed.
So, fax machines are not the thing I like about the 80s. Mainly it’s just the music, because that’s what I grew up with and if I like something for once, I like it. The other reason I grew up with the remnants of the eighties was that Mom always had MTV running when I was a kid and MTV was still called Music Television for a reason. And sometimes they played videos from five or ten years ago.
[random personal aside] Actually, Alice Cooper is one of my earliest memories (I was four years old and thought he was a lady – a real ugly one – because I’d never seen a dude with long hair). And then of course there was The Cure, the reason for my oversized sweater obsession… and also the reason why I couldn’t do any good goddamned make up until my early twenties and ran around like some creature from an underground bar you’d never heard of, mainly because it closed fifteen years ago. [/Random personal aside]
Not that I want to live in the eighties or anything (I’ve seen my parents’ pictures and I’m not impressed. Also, fax machines.), mainly because, no internet?! What kind of hell is that?! How can you even survive without being able to look at other people’s food or kittens? But just imagine how much better that whole decade would have been with the internet! Tutorials upon tutorials on how to get big hair and Siouxsie Sioux’s eye make up! (Like… even more than now!)
[random personal aside] I just realised why I could never be scandalised by Lady Gaga doing anything: David Bowie, Cher, Alice Cooper, or Cyndi Lauper already did it. [/random personal aside]
Hey, self, could you please let me talk without interrupting my flow with your asides? No one cares, shut up.
Anyway, where was I… something something eighties, yes, it’s a bad drug. I just bought some earrings that look almost exactly like the ones my mother had in 1981. I own a jacket with shoulder pads and I let myself be seen wearing it in public. I’m singing along to Grauzone’s Eisbär as I type. (So there are some perks to German being my first language.) It’s addictive!
No, just kidding, I can quit any time I want to. No, I’m not hiding a Sisters of Mercy album behind my back. No, it’s not Talking Heads either. Nope, no siree, no drugs, I mean, eighties to be found here.
So, to take a break from all things 80s I’m going to take myself back to the seventies by watching Monty Python, nighty night!
Approximately nine hours until almost heart attack.